She Can't Get That
by LittleRedOne
Summary: Neville provides Ginny with what she can't get at home. Ginny/Neville


**A/N:** I've edited this story so it no longer contains song lyrics. It's still the same iffy piece of work with a forced ending.

**Disclaimer: **Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter series is not mine. This idea came from and is based off the song 'She Can't Get That' by Blake Shelton.

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Ginny gets out of work anytime now. I'm sitting by the window, listening for the 'pop' to signify her apparating in. I can't wait to see her. It's funny how it seems like it's been so long, when it hasn't at all. After five minutes of waiting I hear a faint 'pop' which causes me to jump from my seat and rush to meet her.

Just as she reaches the door, I yank it open and usher her inside. She looks extremely flustered. She must have had an awful day. More often then not her job is hard on her. It's her boss and his idiotic daily demands. She drops her things on the living room table and turns to look at me with a demand in her eyes.

No words pass between us as she drags me towards the bedroom. As soon as the door's shut behind us she pulls me down for an almost pleading kiss. I direct her towards the bed and gently lay her down.

Usually we rush, going as fast as we can to experience the feel of each other. Today though, she's in a miserable mood. I slowly undress her, only revealing small amounts of skin at a time. It's torturous for us both, but I'm determined to show her how wonderful she is.

My hands slowly explore her, feeling every bump, dip and smooth expanse of skin, my lips trailing kisses after my touch. By the time she's down to just her underthings, she pulls my face back to hers, kissing me with indescribable passion. She quickly devests me of my clothing, anything to give her the closeness she needs.

My arms slip around her back to undo the clasp on her bra. With the same teasing slowness, I slide the straps down her arms and remove the lacy piece of cloth from her breasts, groaning at the newly exposed skin. She truly is a beautiful creature.

I continue on, giving her body generous amounts of attention.

I honestly feel a need to show her how brilliant she is. I shouldn't be the one to show her, tell her though. She's got a man for that, a ridiculous excuse for a man if you ask me. He doesn't give her love. He doesn't give her affection. He doesn't really even give her attention. He doesn't give her what she _needs_. That's where I come in.

I willingly give her love. I willingly give her affection. And I willingly give her my full attention. I willingly give her _anything_ she needs. I can't understand how he can take her for granted. It doesn't make the slightest bit of sense to me how you can have someone as magnificent as her, and ignore it.

I can't even recall everytime I've been out with her places. New clubs, shows, Holyhead Harpies matches, art exhibits, her boring work functions, the list goes on. And even though she's been with him for many years, it's _me _who goes to these things with her. The only places he'll ever go with her are restaurants, his work functions, which are just as boring, basically an match other than the Harpies, her family get togethers, though I go too, and, on a rare occasion, out dancing, but never to the club she wants to go to. Everything with him is his choice; her opinion doesn't matter. What she wants to do doesn't matter.

I've asked her why she hasn't just left him yet. She always just says that he takes care of her, keeps her safe. I always counter with _I_ could take care of her and_ I_ could keep her safe. And that's where she always changes the subject.

When we're both spent we lie in bed, her wrapped in my arms, and just talk. She goes on and on about anything that comes to mind. She makes up stories, tells childhood fairy tales, relives memories and he never gets tired of it. He listens to everything she has to say. She always seems so excited. She could ramble for three hours and he'd listen with his full attention. There's no one back home to listen to her that cares what she has to say.

Her favorite thing to tell him is about her childhood, growing up with her brothers. Charlie was always her favorite she'd told him. He was the laid back one. And after he left for work he'd come back with the best stories of all the dragons he's worked with. She always gets a smile when she recalls her memories of Charlie. She hardly ever sees him; Romania isn't exactly close and she can never get _him _to travel there with her. She talks with a particular fondness about the time she went to visit Charlie and she got to see a baby dragon hatch.

I wish she'd just leave him. He's no good for her. She isn't treated the way she should be. She's never been abused, but she's certianly what I'd call neglected. I would never be like that with her. For some reason though, she always goes back to him. She always goes back to that home. She goes back to where she's the least important person. If she'd just stay, I could show her a good life. Everything I'd do would be for her. Hell, everything I already do is all for her. I just wish she'd actually be mine. I love her though, more than she'd ever understand. And if she wants to go back to him, I have to let her. I've got to let her go. Afterall, everything I do is for her.


End file.
